


Radiant Raccoon

by FandomN00b



Series: Brief Studies on the Nature of Stealth [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 07:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23347657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomN00b/pseuds/FandomN00b
Summary: Alarion, former spy, currently wanted by the Inquisition for kidnapping and espionage, also possibly being hunted by the Agents of Fen'Harel or the Venatori or both...but alsohaving a wonderful time in the Deep Roadswith the love of his life!
Relationships: Anders (Dragon Age)/Original Male Character(s), Anders/Alarion (OC)
Series: Brief Studies on the Nature of Stealth [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1638937
Comments: 9
Kudos: 5





	Radiant Raccoon

**Author's Note:**

> From wikipedia (don't @me):
> 
> The raccoon is a medium-sized mammal native to North America...its grayish coat mostly consists of dense underfur which insulates it against cold weather. Three of the raccoon's most distinctive features are its extremely dexterous front paws, its facial mask, and its ringed tail, which are themes in the mythologies of the indigenous peoples of the Americas. Raccoons are noted for their intelligence, with studies showing that they are able to remember the solution to tasks for at least three years. They are usually nocturnal and omnivorous.
> 
> <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raccoon>

“Why are you picking through the garbage again?”

“Huh?” Alarion turns to look at Anders and he looks like a halla caught in magelight...or rather, like some kind of bandit caught ferreting through someone’s dirty underwear pile.

“We aren’t short on food. Do I need to ask Solona to increase your rations?” He starts to pull out some of the food he has tucked away into one of the many pockets hidden in his robes. “You can have some of mine, in the meantime...” 

“No, I...well, I just -- old habits, I guess,” Alarion shrugs with a dazzling and distracting smile as he stands up, wiping his hands down his sides and straightening out his leathers, all the while trying to hide behind his radiant admiration of Anders’ unceasing compassion.

“Ah,” Anders nods. It’s not that he hasn’t known poverty and lack of resources himself, of course. But his destitution was often of his own choosing, preferable to being held a prisoner in the Circle, anyway -- and he almost always had a group of friends to force him to eat or to pay for his drinks or to throw him some coin or old tattered trousers they’d found in a barrel when his clothes got to the point of risking public indecency. He rarely _had_ to scavenge for much.

His heart breaks as he wonders what kind of life Alarion had before he was strategically placed as a spy in the Pavus household. Not so much out of pity, but because he realizes they’ve never once talked about it. That Anders has wept countless times in this man’s arms over his own past, but never once has anything come up about Alarion other than that he was trained as a spy for the Agents of Fen’Harel.

Alarion is still smiling at him, hoping to avoid any further embarrassment by being his charmingly deflective self.

“You don’t…” Anders begins to say. _He doesn’t what?_ “You don’t need to hide anything from me, you know.” Shit, that’s not really what he meant, is it?

“I’m not…” Alarion’s smile falters. Does Anders think he’s lying to him, too? He supposes that's fair, all things considered.

“I don’t mean that I don’t trust you or anything. Just that, you don’t need to be embarrassed about anything.” He waves his wand toward the pile of trash.

“Anders, I was an orphaned elf in Tevinter.”

“I know.” But did he, _actually_ know what that meant?

“So, uh, this is sort of second nature to me.” Alarion smirks. “But I’m not looking for food, specifically. Just...anything of value? So go ahead and put that moldy bread away before you lure some deepstalkers to our camp.”

“Oh.” Anders blushes as he shoves the old bread back in his pocket. 

Alarion shakes his head at him. He’s not the only one with odd habits. “So you ration out your food and keep it even when it’s gone bad. And I rummage through the trash.”

Anders finally laughs at the twinkle in Alarion’s eyes.

“Yeah, I guess we’re both pretty strange.”

“Anders, no…” Alarion rushes over to him, grabbing for his hands. “After what you went through…”

“No.” Anders shakes his head, taking Alarion’s hands in his anyway because how could he resist those impossibly dexterous fidgeting mitts? “Don’t let me make this about me, love.”

Alarion looks puzzled at him. He’s blushing and being self-deprecating and Alarion would like nothing more than to nuzzle up against him for a kiss, but Anders pulls away slightly as Alarion squeezes his hands.

“I always talk about my sad past. And it has occurred to me that I’ve been an insensitive prick and never once given you the chance to talk about yours.”

“Well, to be fair, I _have_ carefully and meticulously designed every interaction we’ve ever had in order to specifically avoid talking about myself.” Alarion grins. His cheery, sarcastic mask is as adorable as it is heartbreaking.

Anders chuckles sadly. He _knows_ he is joking, but...

“I'm _kidding_ , Anders! I told you, I’m not hiding anything.”

“I know,” he sighs.

Alarion squeezes his hands again, lowering his chin a little from that roguish smirk he usually wears when he’s about to stand up on his tiptoes and peck Anders on the nose. “ _But_ if you genuinely would like to know, we can talk about it.”

“Only if you want to,” he mutters.

“I would. A little. Maybe more, eventually. But first, a kiss? You’re blushing, and it’s cute.”


End file.
